


money, power, glory

by backflipsaway



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: (until exams are over), 1970's, Aged-Up Character(s), Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 1970s, Drug lord au, Drugs, M/M, Miami, On Hiatus, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating will go up, Smoking, constantly changing summary sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-06-05 11:40:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6703228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/backflipsaway/pseuds/backflipsaway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oikawa Tooru, is the complicated head of Miami's largest, most successful drug smuggling ring at the turn of the 70's. The empire he worked so hard to build up is now threatened by a mysterious underdog force, and he's taken by surprise in ways that he thought he'd long left behind.</p><p>Accompanied by a tracklist of songs to add to the ambiance.</p><p>EDIT-JUNE 22: on hiatus due to exams and me rethinking and tweaking the plot</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prelude & Florida Kilos

**Author's Note:**

> if u are uncomfortable by:  
> drugs, smoking, alcohol, the abstract concept of death, sex(non explicit mentions), infidelity, etc. this is a content warning. i don't want to give away spoilers. but im sort of lazy so this is just a warning for what it to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The brainchild combination of my former iwaoi obsession and the viewing of a documentary about Miami in the 70's and its cocaine industry over a year ago. I loved this concept too much to never let it see the light of day. Heavy influence from the Lana Del Rey album Ultraviolence (title taken from the title of a song on that very album) and other unreleased music by her.

_"We could see the kilos or the Keys, baby, oh yeah."_

[Florida Kilos - Lana Del Rey](https://youtu.be/8FY0mQpttlM)

  


* * *

  


_**Prelude** ___

  


The moon stood high in the newly darkened Miami sky. The recent decade brought about a bustling city skyline, lit up by neon lights from its buildings. The stars you used to be able to see so clearly from there were muddied by the growing light pollution from new developments. What used to be there was mostly swamplands near the ocean, a spot for retirees to wind down from the hustle of their accomplished American dreams. All that prosperity, from the hotels, to the ever-climbing high-rises, didn’t come about from very ethical means. The air was muggy, like it always was, but in the sketchier parts of town, it felt somehow muggier. Driving through the city at unholy hours with the windows down brought ease to two men of the night, belonging to warring cartels both alike in dignity, in the freedom land of the seventies.

  


* * *

  


_**Chapter 1:** Florida Kilos_

  


A new model of a long, shiny white limousine rolled up at a brick building in the red-light district. The car’s crisp edges and new paint job were highlighted by the flashing neon lights that stood on a sign by the sidewalk of the establishment. Though not way too over the top flashy, it wasn’t hard to see that something was going on there. A line formed outside the building, two burly men clad in all black and sunglasses despite it being night blocked the door. Booming techno music could be heard, well outside. It was a club with fair popularity, though at first glance, you wouldn’t expect the owner was as loaded as he was.

A young, tall, handsome man stepped out of the very back of the limo. His hair was brown and long, and greased back into place. If he left it alone, it would probably have been flowy, but he wasn’t on some hippie crap. He meant business. The man headed straight to the front doors, to the piercing stares of the patrons he bypassed who waited on in the queue.

He gave one look at the two bouncers, and they quickly let him in.

The one on the left greeted the man as he was let in. “Welcome back, Tooru.”

The sleek man brushed him off. “That’s ‘sir’ to you.”

The large man shrunk a little. “Sorry.” 

The sleek man smirked as he strutted in. He wore an all mint suit, from quality silk and velvet. It was cleanly pressed, and brand-new. Each and every one of the club’s attendees stopped to either greet or stare at the man as he walked by to the back of the building. He could have definitely passed off as a pretty boy if he perhaps led a different life, but something about his demeanour made him look simply devious. His eyes could pierce the hearts of anyone he so desired. His smile, ravished the purest with filthy thoughts, a smile that could be worn by the Devil himself. Truly, he fit in, the air of pure sex he brought in matched the sketchy air of all the patrons grinding on each other and partaking in various illicit activities in the dark. Maybe the smell in the air wasn’t sex. It was probably drugs. The crowd of people were high as a kite.

With his swagger, he could definitely have been mistaken for a big-name actor, or model. He certainly was able to turn all the heads for it. But he wasn’t. He was far from it. His name was Oikawa Tooru, young head of Miami’s biggest drug smuggling ring. Despite being only a few years into his adulthood, he amassed a great fortune. From estates, to fancy cars, to boats alike his lavish lifestyle was an evident marker that he was young money. His lifestyle was flashy, and lavish, far from the business he took a part in to collect his riches. Smuggling, distribution, managing all kinds of unholy services and payments, his group did it all. Evidently, though he was the owner of the club he walked in, the money wasn’t made from the disco parties.

Nonetheless, there was one commodity that made Oikawa the filthy rich mogul he was more than anything else on that list. It was cocaine; a true money maker. The great, beautiful, free America simply couldn’t get enough of the stuff. Shipped in from South and Central America, smuggled in various ways by hustling, hard-working Americans, there was a lot of it coming in. Oikawa dropped out of high school to hop aboard the cocaine train, and took advantage of his residence in one of the central trade destinations for the illicit drug trade, Miami.

He walked with immense confidence into his back office. His head was held high, despite the smoke and smell of alcohol that clung heavily in the air. He’d gotten used to it. He opened the door to his office, surprisingly cramped for a man with his kind of money. It was small, but Oikawa was always close to the center of his operations this way. Plus, if anyone ever raided them, the humble office would confuse them. On paper, he was a simple club owner.

Two young men awaited Oikawa in the office. The first man, two years younger than him sat behind his desk, fumbling around with the various papers and pens. His hair was jet black, and long, draping over his face. It made him somewhat scruffy looking, but accentuated his baby face, and simple clothes. He looked pretty out of place. 

Oikawa rolled his eyes. “Kageyama, get out of my chair.”

Kageyama returned the paper and pens to their original spots while getting up. “Sorry, sir.”

The other man, who was about the same age as Oikawa, seemed less aloof, and more sophisticated. His hair was pale, and though shorter than the other two men, was still floppy. He stood noticeable shorter in stature than the other two men, and leaned against the desk. He shifted, and started, “Sir, I have some news.”

He barely waited for the okay from his boss to continue. “You know, the rival company that’s been up and coming on our territory? They’ve just stolen one of our warehouses, the Jones Convenience.” 

Oikawa paced around. He grumbled, “They come out of no where, and think they can steal our thunder? Suga, why is this the first I’m hearing of this?” He shook his head at the light-haired man. 

“Sorry. Everyone’s been busy lately.” Sugawara rubbed his forearm. By busy, most of the people in the operation had been busy partying, among other things, but he didn’t feel the need to mention that. Only he and Kageyama had been actually working lately. “But this happened yesterday. I happened to catch wind that one of the top guys of their operation hangs out at one of the motels nearby. The Flamingo. Heard he’s the guy that orchestrated the territory steal yesterday.”

Oikawa perked up. “Sounds like a scary dude.”

Sugawara frowned at Kageyama, who was picking at the wallpaper in the background, but quickly hopped back onto topic. “I know their operation is pretty secretive, but I heard this guy in question is the real deal. Heard he’s pretty good in a fight, and got some muscle on him.”

Oikawa scowled. “They’re so secretive, they don’t even have a name for their little gang. Who even works for them? That bastard, Ushiwaka. I’ll kick his little underling’s ass. He thinks his little circle can push us outta town. We gotta crush them.”

The boss sat at the armchair, and the two subordinates circled around him. Oikawa decided it would be best to secretly ask for a meeting between himself and the mystery man from the other side at the aforementioned motel. 

The quiet Kageyama mumbled, “Sir, why you? You’re the boss. Why would you go at the front lines and meet this guy?”

Oikawa stared icily. “This guy supposedly stole my territory. He’s gotta get paid a visit by yours truly. I’m the scariest and strongest out of all of you anyway. I’ve been bored lately anyway.”

Sugawara slid his boss a slip of paper. “I heard he goes by this nickname.”

Oikawa unfolded the paper. He snorted. It read, _“Tiger.”_ He put the slip in his pants pocket. “What, is this guy from an old folks’ home?”

Sugawara patted Oikawa on the shoulder. “He’s a serious guy from what I heard, okay? Head to room fourteen and knock four times tomorrow night. I’ll get the word out.”

Oikawa nodded, and sent Kageyama for some liquor. His rival’s nickname resonated a childish snicker from the young man. He sat easy in his armchair as his two workers shuffled out the room to carry out his bidding. He smiled.

“I won’t go easy on you, Tiger.”

  


* * *

  


Oikawa awoke at the desk he sat at the previous night. His face felt numb from lying on the table. His back and arms were sore from being hunched over the whole night. His breath tasted of stale alcohol. According to the expensive watch on his wrist that he squinted his eyes at, it was half past noon. 

A note lay opposite to him, neatly folded at the front of his desk. In neat handwriting he recognized as Sugawara’s, it read: _“The meet up is a go. Get there at 10.”_

He eyed the three-quarters-empty bottle of liquor on his desk and took a swig. His throat burned. He walked out the door to the now empty club. There were no windows to the outside and the regular fluorescent lights showed an uglier, mundane side to the normally sexy atmosphere. During the day workers usually cleaned the grime that settled over the club after the parties died out, but left the mind longing for the past night’s disco lights.

The hall, however, was empty except for one young man. Kageyama swept the floor that was addled with various garbage and leftover glasses. Oikawa pulled Kageyama over to the back where a lone pool table lay. He suggested they play a round so he could take a break.

Oikawa leaned over the table and took the first shot as Kageyama watched. “Ah, new guy. What’s up? They have you on cleaning duty?”

Kageyama walked over to the other side of the table and took his first shot. “The regular cleaners you hire didn’t show up. No one else was around, so…”

His boss seemed somehow proud. “I like you, what was it, Tobio?” Kageyama nodded. “You’re a hard worker.”

Kageyama watched his boss sink the balls one by one. He secretly wished his boss would offer some help in cleaning up, but knew better. He was too high up for menial work like cleaning up his own nightclub. Kageyama called the second highest up, Sugawara to pick his boss up as Oikawa took the final winning shot.

The game ended and Oikawa patted his subordinate on the head before walking outside. “You’ll go far with that work ethic, kid.”

It took a second for Oikawa’s eyes to adjust to the natural sunlight. The sun was sweltering and he missed the air conditioning in the empty club. It was normally as sweaty as this inside the club when it was packed with people, but Oikawa was never keen of the burning Florida sun anyway. He waited a few minutes before Sugawara pulled up in an off-white Cadillac.

He hopped in and eyed the multiple grocery bags in the back. Oikawa asked to be brought to a bar that was also controlled by the cartel he ran. Suga, his old friend from the same high school he went to dropped out a few weeks after he did. When Oikawa was starting out on his trade, Suga was stuck with a kid to take care of. He’d originally took care of the accounting on the side while working as a cashier to make ends meet, but went all in to the drug trade when it proved the better source of income. He didn’t want to be dependent on anyone money-wise. 

Sugawara broke the silence at a stop light. “Sorry for the wait, I had to go to the groceries first. I saw that they had bananas on sale on the way.”

Oikawa looked at the bags in the back and shook off the wonderment that those bags were probably full of just bananas. How did he pick up that many in such little time? He looked back at the front, to the two hands his friend and business partner had clenched on the steering wheel. “That’s fine. Don’t worry about it. A man’s gotta eat. Who’s watching over the kid?”

Sugawara sighed as he accelerated again at the newly green light. “You know, my little cousin, the bright haired one. He’s almost done high school now.”

Oikawa racked his brain as to who the little cousin in question was. “The loud one?”

Suga reaffirmed him. “Yeah, Shouyou.”

“Huh.” Oikawa barely remembered who he was even talking about. “Do you even pay him?”

“He likes playing with the little one anyway. It’s like a reward to him just to hang out with the kid all the time.” Sugawara sounds satisfied with his reasoning. “That’s better than payment.”

“Please pay your cousin.” Oikawa was hardly surprised that his right-hand-man didn’t properly compensate his little cousin for babysitting duties. That’s why he was so good at getting the best possible profits for their business. “You’re loaded anyway.”

His second in command seemed disheveled. Sugawara felt the need to mention that he was the reason they’d gotten their new, hard-working assistant, Kageyama. Oikawa shot back, saying the only reason Suga had found Kageyama was through his little cousin, who he happened to refuse to pay. It was all the more reason to pay him, Oikawa reasoned. The two sat in petty silence as Oikawa was dropped off. 

  


* * *

  


The bright day turned to muggy night, and Oikawa stepped outside of the last of the collection of shady bars he frequented that day. He was greeted by a different off-white Cadillac than earlier while being dropped off to the first bar of the day. Seemed like Sugawara didn’t feel like driving him around after that. In the driver’s seat sat Kageyama, the fresh meat of the operation. 

As his boss entered and sat, the young errand boy couldn’t help but wonder why Oikawa, a man of his stature and glamour insisted on patronizing such dingy joints on the regular. Rather than making appearances at the beach, or high-end establishments that only the elite could dare to grace, Kageyama couldn’t wrap his head around why Oikawa stuck around these dumps.

Despite his boss’ ownership of mansions, boats, and other luxurious articles, Oikawa never seemed to actually hang around in the end results of his riches. The extent of his lavish life seemed to be the Cadillac and limo rides he took, and he’d never even seen him drive a luxury car by himself.

Kageyama followed the directions that Sugawara gave him to the motel, not before taking a few wrong turns.

Oikawa looked hard at the faded brass numbers on the green painted door on the exterior of the motel. Just outside the city, there weren’t any tall buildings near by. His feet felt a little shaky on the questionable metal flooring that made up the second floor he stood upon. The window that led into the room was curtained off. He eyed the consecutive one and four on the door as his fist wavered in front of it. He knocked four times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, sorry for the stark lack of Iwaizumi, but I hope the Suga and Kageyama love made up for it. You'll meet him real soon. I just want the build up and atmosphere to be just right. I apologize in advance for any possible historical inconsistencies with vernacular, or location inconsistencies. Thanks for reading and hope you look forward to the actual story to come.


	2. My Heart/My Best Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ooo drama

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i do not condone smoking. bad for your lung

  
_”I'm the kind of kid that can't let anything go, but you wouldn't know a good thing if it came up and slit your throat.”_

[ My Heart Is The Worst Kind Of Weapon – Fall Out Boy](https://youtu.be/Ovz9aZ8ynSo)

  


* * *

  


  
**_Chapter 2:_ ** _My Heart/My Best Days_  


  


There was no immediate answer. Oikawa couldn’t shake the oddest feeling that some curveball was headed his way. Something unexpected was about to happen, maybe? He left without his gun. Damn. 

The door opened, and two guys answered side by side. One slouched a little, and the other was grinning for some reason. They were both as tall, if not taller than Oikawa, which was slightly unnerving. They weren’t built scrawny either. 

The grinning one turned to the slightly taller one. He then squinted at Oikawa, trying to make him out properly in the dim lighting. “Oh, Mattsun, I bet this one is Mr. Jupiter.” He looked him up and down, scrutinizing the clothes, to the pretty face, to the hair. “Yeah. This guy’s a real piece of work. That’s definitely him.”

The taller, slouchy one, Mattsun gave his partner a reassuring nod and walked back in the room. Was the guy standing in front of him the ever-so notorious Tiger? Oikawa shifted his stature straighter to appear taller. Oikawa coughed in an attempt to lower his voice while gesturing with his hand. “So what’s your name, anyway?”

The man in front of him smirked and crossed his arms in amusement. “Don’t worry, sir,” he raised his eyebrow almost condescendingly. 

“You can call him Makki,” A voice from the back of the room, from the man’s partner piped up.

The grin the man blocking the door sported shifted to a pout. He turned to his partner and shot back, “Shut up, Matsukawa!“ His partner stifled a laugh in the background. He turned back to glare at his partner, then turned back to Oikawa. “Ignore that. I’m Hanamaki to you.” 

Oikawa raised his eyebrow and patted Hanamaki on the shoulder. “Alright, Makki!” 

In return, Oikawa got a glare even worse then the previous. 

He heard a car pull up below them in the parking lot, engine growling. Hanamaki stepped out on to the balcony, leaving the door wide open. Inside was dark, but Oikawa made out Matsukawa in the corner of the room at a round table inspecting something. Quickly, however, his attention was snapped back to Hanamaki’s piqued interest in the car that was pulling up in the mostly empty lot.

He turned around and rested his arms on the low, metal railing. He narrowed his eyes, and saw as the silhouette pulled into the dim glow of an overhead light. It was shiny, and a real looker. The paint glistened. He looked on as a man got out of the driver’s seat, and he kept watching. He couldn’t get a good look, and saw just a dark outline of him and the faded contour of his shadow. He walked underneath the scaffolding the two men stood upon, and Oikawa turned to Hanamaki. 

“That’s my boss.” Oikawa cocked a brow. “Well, he’s not the head honcho, but he’s the guy you’re looking for.”

Finally, they could hear steps and feel the small vibrations brought about by his weight. The shadow of the mysterious man he was brought to meet inched closer, and Oikawa’s eyes adjusted. The man was hard to make out until he stood not fifteen feet away. The shadows accentuated his jawline and sharp features well. As Oikawa sized up the man who he noted was slightly shorter than himself, he couldn’t help but feel like he recognized him.

He felt an odd sense of familiarity. A glance into his eyes, and suddenly the identity of the man who stood in front of him was clear.

“Hi, Tooru.”

Oikawa grabbed the railing again in shock. It took a second, but he regained his composure.

Though quiet, he greeted the mysterious man with poise and control. “Hi, Iwa-chan.”

The man shot a look at Oikawa. “That’s Iwaizumi to you.” Oikawa stifled a mocking look, and Iwaizumi acknowledged him for only a second then turned to his operative. “You frisked him for weapons, right?”

Oikawa snorted. “Sorry, _Tiger._ ”

Iwaizumi simply ignored Oikawa, gaze locked on Hanamaki. “Did you check him for weapons?”

“Sorry Hajime, I forgot, it’s just Mr. Bigshot here got me distracted, and—“

“Go.” Iwaizumi pushed aside Hanamaki. He grudgingly made his way down the stairs. Iwaizumi looked inside the open motel door and saw Matsukawa rummaging through a dresser drawer. “You too.” 

With a newly lit cigarette in his mouth, Matsukawa left too, taking a drag as he passed the two drug bosses on his way out.

Now alone, Iwaizumi gestured at the open door to the motel room. “Go ahead.” He looked Oikawa up and down as he walked inside. “You didn’t bring a gun, did you? You’re not gonna make me feel you up, are you?”

“Not unless you want to, Tiger.” They faced each other. Oikawa felt good. The last time he saw Iwaizumi, he was considerably taller than him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Iwaizumi cocked a brow and stood taller, as if he attempted to compensate the height difference.

“I mean, you’d be dumb not to. I’m not too bad with a gun if I get my hands on one.”

“Huh.” Iwaizumi tilted his head slightly. “I suddenly don’t want to check you anymore.”

“Your loss.” Oikawa smiled condescendingly.

“This is the first time I’ve seen you in how many years, and now you’re a sexed up drug dealer.”

Oikawa crossed his arms and cherished the tiny height advantage he had over his rival. “Well, Iwa-chan, you’re here too.”

  


* * *

  


  
_**Nineteen years ago.** _

_**Suburban Southeast Florida, 1953.** _

  


The sun was hot, and his mom made him sit around outside in the heat to his dismay. Occasionally, the skinny woman called him to toddle over to her, as she sat in the shade on a tacky lawn chair by the small, cookie-cutter house.

“Tooru!” His mother sat, catty sunglasses sitting low on the bridge of her nose. She slouched real low, one hand holding a two-day-old newspaper, the other carefully holding an almost burned out cigarette. 

The child walked slowly and awkwardly to his mother, only a small, yellow pair of socks protecting his feet from the scorching dry grass and cement. She reached inside an open window behind her, and in her hand was a small candy.

“I got one from work. We had extras. Enjoy, sweet pea.” She placed the candy in her son’s hand, rustled his soft, brown hair, then brushed him off again to continue her reading. 

Twenty feet away, a man walked on the sidewalk with a small boy around the same age as Oikawa. The little boy tripped and fell on the pavement. He let out a flow of tears, face shriveling. Oikawa waddled over to the crying boy as the man bent over out of concern for his child.

The father comforted his child. “Aw, shhh, Hajime, you’re okay. You’ll be okay.” 

Oikawa looked down at the boy and his father, attempting to soothe his kid. His father gave Oikawa a warm smile and continued to console his kid, who was still crying.

Oikawa’s mom looked up from her newspaper to see what the commotion was about. She expected to be utterly uninterested, but then locked eyes on the whining kid’s dad.

“Ah! Wait! Do you need a band-aid?” His mother stood up in a flurry, yelling at the three hunched over boys in front of her house and shook her head. “I’ll go inside and get a band-aid.”

A minute later, the lady ran back outside, an entire box of bandages in hand. She bent over to little Iwaizumi, and had a look at his legs. “Sweetie, it’s just a scratch! Don’t worry. You’ll be just fine.” She reached in the box and pulled out a bandage, and placed it gently on the little boy’s right knee. “See? All better!”

The little boy, now bandaged up was content. He scooted over to where Oikawa sat and they got acquainted. 

The two parents beamed as their two children seemed to get along alright. 

Oikawa’s mom fixed her hair and tried her best to make a good first impression. “How are you? You live around here? Cause if you don’t, I could drive you and your kid home.” She took a glance at the car her husband had before he passed away. 

“It’s fine, we actually live just down the road.” Iwaizumi’s dad pointed down the street to an almost identical house.

“Wow, I’ll be! I’ve never seen you around!”

Meanwhile, the two toddlers sat on the front lawn, pulling at the dried up grass, tossing it at each other. 

Twenty minutes later, Iwaizumi and his father made their way back to their house. Oikawa noticed his mom beaming as they went back inside.

“Tooru, this is great!” Oikawa sat on the tiles as he watched his mother cook dinner. “You have a new friend, and now I can pick up more shifts because our friendly neighbour is offering to babysit! You’ll be able to play with your new friend all the time!”

Now, Oikawa wasn’t exactly old enough to fully understand what his mother droned on about, but he did know the word “friend.” He didn’t even know that sniffling kid’s name, and now he was his friend?

Every day before work now, Oikawa was stuck at his “friend’s” house and was watched all day by the boy’s mother. For some reason, she didn’t seem to take a liking to Oikawa’s mom, which was beyond him because his mom was the greatest mom in the world. It was late before he got to go back home with his mom.

It took about two weeks for Oikawa to learn his “friend’s” name. Until then, he exclusively referred to the other boy by grunts and various bastardized forms of “Hey, you.” But he learned his last name first, for some reason because he overheard his mom calling his friend’s mom “Mrs. Iwaizumi.”

According to his mom, the boy’s last name was the same as his mom’s. But for a preschooler, Iwaizumi was simply too hard on the tongue. He recapped to his own mother affectionately calling him with the Japanese suffix –chan, because as she told him, both the boys were Japanese. Thus, when first trying to address his playmate, he tried slurring Iwaizumi, but only came out with Iwa. It felt incomplete, so he added –chan to the dismay of his “friend.”

Oikawa never really saw Iwaizumi’s dad much. The only times he ever saw him was with his own mom, which was the most peculiar thing to him. Oikawa wondered why Iwaizumi’s mom didn’t like his mom, because his dad sure liked his mom a lot.

  


* * *

  


The two newly reunited childhood friends turned men stared each other down. Iwaizumi sat on the bed, across from Oikawa who sat on a wooden chair with minimal padding. 

“Iwa-chan, I don’t care who you are. Back off my territory.”

“Woah, there.” Iwaizumi pulled a cigarette box out of his shirt pocket and pulled one out. He offered one the man he faced.”

This attempt at diplomacy earned him a stereotypical scowl. “Who do you think I am?”

Iwaizumi lit it up. “Right.” He took a drag and drew out his exhale long and hard. “Mr. Jupiter.” He sprinkled his address with mockery.

Oikawa pouted. “Jupiter. My company. Great name. Wanna move on?”

“It’s not that cool.” A dry retort.

“It’s better than Tiger!”

Iwaizumi grimaced. “I never came up with that!” 

“Whatever! Anyways, Jupiter is the largest planet in the solar system. Gas giant. Denser than all the other planets combined. That’s pretty intimidating, no?” For some odd reason, Oikawa was greatly knowledgeable and fascinated by outer space since he’d seen the Space Race unfold in his childhood. 

“Still into space, huh?” 

“Shut up. Like you’d care.” Oikawa eyed Iwaizumi’s cig jealously. “I support NASA, and all American endeavours. I’m a true patriot!“ 

He was interrupted by snorts from Iwaizumi.

“Wait! Back on topic! At least my cartel HAS a name.” Oikawa seemed like he won in the assumed battle of wits.

Iwaizumi shot back. “We don’t need one.”

“Right.” Oikawa groaned. “Get me a drink.”

Iwaizumi got up and searched the mini freezer as Oikawa eyed the glasses on top of the fridge.

“And STOP STEALING MY TERRITORY!”

Iwaizumi bumped his head on the top of the mini fridge. “Damn,” he started dryly. “I’m convinced now.” 

  


* * *

  


[My Best Days – Lana Del Rey](https://youtu.be/EMm7zjyrRBg)

_**Suburban Southeast Florida, Mid 1950’s.** _

  


The two little kids grew older. Though they weren’t exactly on the same wavelength all the time, they spent a lot of time together. They were comfortable with each other from the start, through mutual teasing and affinity for playing in the dirt.

When they started elementary school together, they were attached at the hip. Before school, they never really hung out with other kids, or were predisposed to the proper skills to be socialites. They were always put into the same classes, and when they weren’t their parents fought for them to remain unseparated. 

Oikawa didn’t really remember much from elementary school. He didn’t really recall standing out much, or being bullied. He only really recounted that every day, he had peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch, and Iwa-chan always took huge bites out of them. 

“Tooru, race you to the swings!” Iwaizumi dropped his backpack and sprinted toward the playground. Oikawa followed suit. 

The two panted for their breath.

“Hah! I beat you!” Iwaizumi exclaimed, fist in the air.

“Nuh uh!” Oikawa threw a fit. “You had a head start!”

“Still won!” Iwaizumi declared proudly. “Wait, wait, don’t cry. Wait. I have something for y— Wait, my bag’s not h— WAIT!”

Oikawa sat in the sand by the swings, looking on as his friend ran back for the two backpacks. Iwaizumi dropped both bags in the sand and opened his.

“I got my mom to help me,” he started. “Here, this is for you.” He nudged over his lunchbox, and in it was a perfectly made PB&J. “Because I keep eating yours.”

Sniffling, Oikawa wholeheartedly accepted. That running made him tired anyway.

  


* * *

  


The smell of cigarette smoke and brandy was soothing. The poorly lit room made Oikawa squint at the brown liquid in his less than pristine glass.

Oikawa continued bugging Iwaizumi after downing half the contents of his glass in one gulp. “Back off.”

“No.”

“Back off. Stop being a dick.”

“Nah.”

“Back off.”

“No.”

“Back o— “

“Okay, wait.” An odd sense of déjà vu washed over the both of them, but Iwaizumi continued. “Although I admire and cherish this lovely back and forth banter we have going on, politely, no.”

“Why not?”

“We want that territory.”

“We?”

“Well, me, and Ushiwaka, my boss—“

Oikawa cut him off peeved. “Who even is he? Why is he too important to meet me?”

“Not exactly, well, he—“

“Shut up. I don’t want to hear it.” Oikawa snapped.

Silence ensued. Oikawa sipped his glass agonizingly slow as Iwaizumi took another drag.

Iwaizumi seemed amused. “How are you even a successful drug dealer?”

Oikawa gave him a rightful side eye. “I happen to be very sly and intelligent. You just happen to be ticking me off, and I guess I’m just comfortable around you?”

Ah, the hard-core deliberations and intimidating negotiations between the two most powerful gangs in Miami.

Breaking the silence, Oikawa veered a little off topic. “I haven’t seen you since…”

“Yeah.” Iwaizumi nodded.

“Why would you join the other side? You knew I was the top gun over here, right? Everyone knows me.”

“Still conceited, huh?”

“I’m just charming.” Oikawa oozed confidence, still, in front of his long lost friend, but dropped his voice lower and softer. “Anyway, I’ve never heard from you in forever. You were dead for all I knew.”

“We were in elementary school. You should’ve known I was out there, somewhere.”

“Nine-year-olds aren’t very smart!”

  


* * *

  


**_Some time in the third grade._ **

  


In Iwaizumi’s living room, the two boys sat. Both their faces were pudgy from eating too many potatoes at dinner, but they were both content. 

Though they were both happy, Iwaizumi’s eyes suddenly turned dreary. Upon seeing this, Oikawa frowned as well. 

“What’s wrong, Iwa-chan?”

“We’re, we’re…” Iwaizumi sniffled as Oikawa took a look around the room. In the kitchen, he saw a rare spectacle: both of Iwa-chan’s parents, in the same room, at the same time. “We’re moving!” Iwaizumi attempted to hold back his tears, but couldn’t.”

“What do you mean you’re moving?” Oikawa felt tears coming on too. He’d be losing his best friend. Both his friend’s parents looked on from afar at the both of them, both broken that they’d have to part. 

There was a knock at the front door, but it was opened anyway before anyone could get it. In the entrance stood Oikawa’s mom. She walked past the kitchen, smiling at both of the two other parents, wavering differing responses. The father smiled at her, but then averted his eyes at the ground, away from his wife. The mother probably burned holes into the other’s skull. Oikawa’s mom then crouched in between the two boys and consoled both of them. 

“C’mon, Tooru, let’s go home.”

At the time, Oikawa had no idea why his best friend was moving far away so suddenly. It completely flattened and dumbfounded him.

Sometimes at night, past his bedtime, when he was supposed to be asleep but didn’t, he heard rustling noises from across the hall. He’d hear his mom’s door open and close. Sometimes he heard giggling, or talking. It was definitely not his mom’s voice half the time. It was far too deep. 

The unknown voice grew familiar, because he heard it both at night and in broad daylight, when he was with Iwa-chan. Eventually, it all sort of made sense. But his epiphany wasn’t a fast process.

Though the chronicles of his young childhood weren’t completely put together in his mindscape, as he grew of age, Oikawa started to realize undertones to things that previously flew right over his head. This wasn’t exactly a blessing, because he really didn’t want to imagine what type of affair his mom and his ex-best friend’s dad were having when he was just a little kid. All he knew about it to this day was it made his mom happy.

  


* * *

  


The two men stared at the empty bottle of brandy and cigarette butts staining the carpet.

Oikawa traced his finger on his now-empty glass. “We turned out alright.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> flaaaaashbackz... have any idea what's happening? me neither. im a mess and throw witty banter at everything and make everything satire. hope yall like my sense of humour bc im hilarious.


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